


The Orphan's Lament

by Butlerj1999



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Dark Souls (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butlerj1999/pseuds/Butlerj1999
Summary: Above the Nightmare and beyond the Clocktower, at the end of the Hamlet lies a dismal secret.
Kudos: 2





	The Orphan's Lament

It was a drizzly day on the beach, as it always was. There was no sound, apart from the crashing waves and the gurgling from It. A heaving noise erupted from It, as something terrible and alive moved. A heaving sound came from It, as a vaguely humanoid hand emerged from a ripped hole in It. The hand led to an arm, which led to a bastardisation of humanity. An old looking thing, but made sounds like a fresh babe. It turned to It, gazing at it’s creator - it’s mother. Suddenly the thing knew its place - it was orphaned, alone, and scared. Suddenly noticing the fierce moonlight painting the shore, the Orphan faced the moon, and began to cry.

It sensed a presence behind it, and turned. Emerging from a cave were two humans, garbed in Hunter attire. She wielded a crude but functional axe, while he had a large broadsword inscribed with runes. Feeling an intense anger and sadness, it did all it knew to do, and lashed out. As it ran towards the pair, he ran a gloved finger along the runes, summoning a pale outline and drawing the moonlight in, while she gripped the bottom of her axe and pulled it smartly, lengthening the handle. With weapons drawn and prey found, the three began their dance.

She moved clumsily, swinging the axe with abandon, while he was more refined. As the creature tried to hit him with wild swings and screams, he ducked and dived with precise movements,occasionally swinging the empowered blade and slicing into the monster. Her attacks were slower, but each hit had a scream as its award. The Orphan faced her, picking her as the easy target. As she moved out for a breather, the Orphan followed her, swinging the lump of flesh it deigned to call a weapon in her face. A sharp blade protruded from it, which promptly sliced her chest and knocked the wind out of her. Noting the damage it was able to do, the Orphan did as hunters do, and kept up it’s assault. But she was prepared, for as it swung she aimed a pistol and shot the Orphan. Unfamiliar with the pain, it fell to it’s knees, and she wasted no time. Moving in close to the creature and pulling her hand back, all it saw was a mess of claw and fur before she punched her way into its chest. Pulling out with an appropriate burst of blood, the Orphan fell backwards in shock, while she backed off, pulling out a filthy vial and hastily jamming the blood into her chest wound. 

Recovering from the damage and angrier than ever, the Orphan forced itself up and turned it’s attention to him, as he hung back and observed the fight. Noting the creature’s eyes on him, he grabbed his sword, now a broadsword by the moonlights glow, and swung it elegantly in front of him in spite of it’s apparent weight. A wave of the moon’s light shed itself from the blade, sharpened itself as though commanded to do so, and flew through the air. Taking the bait, the Orphan ran towards him, incensed at the show. As the blade of light dissipated, it leaped into the air, aiming to land on him. With almost precognated and bored movement, he sidestepped and as the Orphan came to land, he grasped the handle of the blade with both hands and pulled it close, tip pointed at where he once was. The light of the moon began spiralling around the sword and as the Orphan landed, he thrust forward. The moonlight blasted forward in a wave of arcane light, catching the Orphan off-guard. Once again blown to the ground, the Orphan quickly got up and reassessed its foes, as she ran up behind him silently, axe blade now crackling with electricity. The duo stared the Orphan down, and in the battle’s lull they might have even felt pity for the creature, so new and yet so old. With a roar tinged with anger,confusion and who knows what other emotions, the Orphan rushed forward, and the dance began anew.

The battle raged fiercely for some time, each side trading blows and giving what they got twice over. Every axe blow, every gunshot, every slice from his sword, the sickening song with seemingly no end continued on. The Orphan, now growing tired and weak, had begged for more power from its mother, and more power it had received. Now sporting a cloth-like set of what may have once been wings as well, it had now figured out how to use its blade properly, as each swing caught her in a new place, severely weakening her. No matter how far she backed up, the Orphan matched her step for step. He dashed in and swung his sword in the Orphan, diverting its attention long enough for her to break out another vial of blood. Now bearing down on him, he blocked the Orphan’s attack blow for blow, dishing out attacks with bored yet precise vigour when the Orphan let up, as if he knew when he would exactly. The Orphan was not going to give up yet though, not now and not ever. But, it would seem, its opinion did not matter. With a swing of the blade and the woosh of the axe behind it, the Hunter pair brought it to its knees, and one final strike from her axe finished the job. As it fell forward, the Orphan faced it’s mother, or what was left of her. It wondered if this was the life it was destined for, to die as soon as it was born, to experience the world in axe blows and moonlight. As it faded, the nightmare within began to quell, and perhaps, the Orphan though, death was naught but a new dream.

As the Orphan faded into the Dream, in peace at last, she turned to her compatriot. He silently pointed to the mass of tissue on the beach, from which a sinister black shadow now emerged. She nodded in agreement, as a pale blue light began to envelop him. He opted to sit down on the beach,feeling the tug of the Messengers pulling him, as she bowed and ran towards the shadow, axe firmly in hand.

He found himself back on a beach - the same but different. He let out a sigh as he bent over in exhaustion. That was far from his first time aiding with slaying the Orphan, but her lack of grace and tact had made the fight harder than necessary. He turned to face the creature’s mother - Kos, her name was - and he sighed once more. How long had it been since he had slayed his Orphan? How many had he aided? Both questions had the same answer: countless. Countless years ago, countless Orphans, countless Hunters lost to its anger and fear. He often wondered if this is what Kos had wanted. Endless death, endless fights, endless secrecy. But that didn’t matter now. He made his way back to the cave. Doubtless a Hunter somewhere had stumbled their way into the Nightmare and found this affront to humanity, and he was always willing to help. Pulling out a small bell from his pocket and swinging it gently, he observed the soundwaves resonating from it, searching for a bell to connect with. Another bell, another Orphan, another cycle swiftly dismantled. He sat down again, this time just inside the cave’s mouth, and waited for the tug of the Messengers once more.


End file.
